Maybe there was some latent plant-lover in the Tsulvwisdanehi, and that was how Udanvti had chosen his profession for him rather than intending it as a lesson for his failures. It was a much nicer thought, at least; he was all smiles as he approached the pretty flowers and began to snuffle at their petals. He barely averted a pollen apocalypse by stifling a sneeze before moving on to the next, and the next, and the next—slowly winding his way through the floral labyrinth as he tried to identify every spot of color he came across. Some of the plants were quite obvious and common ones, such as nondescript wildflowers popping up through their once-domestic cousins, but others looked a bit more special, and there were a few that were downright exotic to the AniWayan.
Unatsikanogeni wasn’t much of a gardener, but he wondered whether some of these plants might have special properties or if they’d just look really pretty if he decided to take them home. If he knew how to handle the plants, he might’ve come back home with an armful of pots, but right now he only stared and made notes and put his category-loving mind to work. The categories were rather childish, the flowers mostly listed in rank of prettiness or weirdness or special-looking-ness, but it was a start until he knew the names and characteristics of the species. He gushed quietly over the plants for a while, sometimes muttering notes to himself, at one point holding a rather cheerful conversation with a butterfly until he realized that he wasn’t the only Luperci there.
“So the fox says—no, wait—so the fox says, ‘Herring? That was my trout!’ Get it—hey! It’s rude to just fly off like that, I mean—” The ruddy-furred farmer frowned then tore his eyes off the departing butterfly, letting them instead land on a flicker of movement on the other side of the plants. He sniffed, and though the scent was faint among the aroma of flowers, he could detect that it was another canine. Nervous but hopeful, Unatsi tried to lean forward to peek through the foliage then overbalanced and fell amongst roses and clay pots.
Even upside down, though, the man could recognize his merle friend. “Osiyo, Harvey, dohitsu?” he greeted in cheerful Cherokee.
<style type="text/css">
.unatree-ooc {font-size:9px; line-height:12px; padding:3px; font-style:italic;width:90%; max-width:700px; margin:0 auto; text-align:right;font-family:georgia;}
.unatree {margin:0 auto; background:#d0a475 url(http://i.imgur.com/EmARI.png) no-repeat bottom; width:98%; max-width:700px; border:1px solid #000; color:#000;}
.unatree .in {margin:5px 15px 150px 15px; padding:7px; font-family:arial; font-size:12px; background:url(http://sleepyglow.net/souls/50pct_white.png); text-align:justify;}
.unatree .name {font-family:georgia; font-style:italic; color:#31213c; text-align:center; font-size:30px; margin:10px;}
.unatree p {margin:0; padding:3px 0; text-indent:30px;}
.unatree b {color:#31213c; font-family:georgia;}
.unatree b.npc {font-weight:normal; font-style:italic;}</style>[/html]